Breath
by Alahnore
Summary: I can feel him breathing, so that's a comfort. Or it's my own breathing and I'm going insane because I'd rather do that than admit I've lost him. \\ Flynn x Yuri


I hate crickets.

There are times you truly want things to be silent. Pure silence was something I treasured, and normally night was the only time to get it, but crickets ruin it. They keep chirping, doing their stupid noise while I'm trying to listen for far more important sounds.

Sounds like Flynn breathing. That was a lot more important than a damn cricket.

But the crickets keep chirping even as I trudge on, feeling exhausted myself. The Quoi Woods was as creepy as ever, dark save for a few streaks of moonlight here and there. Fireflies are the only other real source of light, and as all know, fireflies as a light source is not a smart idea. I don't know where I am, where I'm going; all I know is that I should not have tried to kill that giganto, that I should have taken Flynn's advice and gone back to Zaphias to get back up.

Now I'm covered in cuts, scraps and Flynn's blood.

It was times like this when I wished we kept blastia. But I only wish it once, then focus on finding somewhere safe. I had to get Flynn somewhere safe, where I can assess him and treat his wounds. His wounds… I never seen Flynn so banged up. The armor probably prevented a lot of damage, but what got through still scared me. He was bleeding all over… what if he bleeds out before I can do anything?

I look up through a small opening in the canopy, looking at the moon. I can't see Brave Vesperia. I can't see any notable stars really—just the moon and some barely illuminated dark clouds. Was it going to rain? Great, just what I need, a night shower.

I'm so damn lost.

I keep going though, because I got no other choice. No point going back, gotta go forward. I'm following some sort of path, but I don't know if it's monster or man made. I don't really care. I have one thing in mind, and it centers on the passed out man I got hiked up on my back.

Luckily, Flynn's pretty light without all his armor.

I lose count of the number of steps I took, but I eventually find something. A tree half-fallen, it's massive roots forming a sort of hovel. Luckily it didn't actually slope down, so even if it did rain we wouldn't get a mini-mudslide. Sadly, a monster had claimed it as a hide out, but one sword stab took care of that.

Carcass out of the way I pull Flynn into the hovel with me, the place just big enough for us to lay side by side. It's a tight fit, but that's fine. I start to peel off makeshift bandages, remains of Flynn's tunic and cape, all soaked through and through. But it seemed like the bleeding was stopping, and none looked too deep to cause me to worry about internal issues. But maybe that's because of the poor light, and even now he's still bleeding on the inside, dying before me and I'm helpless.

I can feel him breathing, so that's a comfort. Or it's my own breathing and I'm going insane because I'd rather do that than admit I've lost him.

I throw aside the bloody rags, leaving the hovel temporarily to do so. Once that was done, I strip off my sash and tunic and begin to make new bandages for him, wrapping up his sliced up arms and torso, as well as the couple punctures on his legs.

When I'm done, I'm cold and shivering, but it was a bit more comforting to see him bandaged up rather then bleeding out. Slightly relieved, I crawl back in close to him, get my arms around him. He's still warm and not really cooling, and now that I got him like this, I can feel him breathe.

"Sorry." I whisper to him. "I messed up. I'll make it up though. I'll fix it… but you gotta come back to me so I can."

Flynn doesn't say anything, but he keeps breathing and that's fine by me. I hold him close, tight even, hoping he'll stay warm the entire night.

I don't sleep. I can't, not with potential monsters snooping around and definitely not if something goes wrong with Flynn. The entire night I keep him close, listen to his breaths. I even move myself to put my face close to his, so I can feel them. I need every reassurance he was okay, or at least alive.

I'm restless throughout the night, the moon setting. When it was too low to shed any light, and there was still no sun, we were caught in a blanket of pitch black. The only reassurance I had was the feel of his chest moving, the light breath on my lips. But that was his, wasn't it? That wasn't me praying my own chest's movements were his; not my breath bouncing off his lips and back to me?

I whispered his name, several times throughout that black period. I never got an answer. Not even a change of movement or breath and I know I'm going to snap. I should have kept moving. Changed his bandages and kept going. By now I could have gotten somewhere, surely.

Finally the sun rises and there's some light. I'm almost afraid to look, but as the light gets brighter, I can't possibly kid myself anymore or be delusional. I pull away from him as far as I can and look him over. He was only a little pale, but still a very 'alive' color. I put my hand against his back and it's a little cold but not like corpse-cold.

And he really _is_ breathing.

I let out my own breath and quickly kiss his lips. He wasn't awake yet, and the kiss doesn't wake him up sadly, but he was alive. I can deal with that. "Let's go home. I swear next time I'll listen to you. At least once."


End file.
